The Mortality Of A Hero
by Vicis Est Eternus
Summary: To Zack Fair, SOLDIER, 1st Class, feeling mortal was not a new feeling - dying on that plateau, on the outskirts of Midgar, however, was. A tribute to the death of Zack Fair. "Hey, Would you say I became a hero?"


**The Mortality Of A Hero**

_A Zack Fair Tribute_

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Feeling mortal was not a new feeling.

He had felt it in every flash of pain that creeped through his nervous system; he had felt it in every incision, in every stab, in every bullet puncture. Pain was humility, and humility was mortality. Despite the enhancements, despite the inhuman strength and the abnormal healing rate, even despite the S-cells that had been pumped into him, he was still mortal. He could die, he could bleed, he could hurt – _Gods_, could he hurt, both physically and emotionally.

Yet, never had he felt like this.

He was dying.

He had been close to death before, but never before was it like this. Never before had he been forced to lay, gasping breaths that seemed more painstaking each time he tried. Never before had he been forced to face the realisation that the breaths that he took were going to be his last. Soon he would stop breathing, soon the pain would vanish, and he would stop breathing.

Never before had he felt death creep up on him.

His body was numb in the pouring rain – rain, in Midgar. The possibility seemed so impossible, and yet there it was, dropping down on him in a steady downpour. It washed the blood down, into his face and around his eye. The sky was blurring slightly, but he was SOLDIER, 1st Class, he could hold out until the end – he was a hero; what kind of hero died without saying something?

He had to get up; he had to make sure Cloud was okay, had to protect him – had to get to Midgar.

He had to get to Aerith.

Pain flooded him, and his strength – something he had always counted on – failed him, and he fell, not even a centimetre higher than the muddy ground. He had to see her – he had to-

He was dying.

The rain continued, flooding his senses, killing him faster. It washed the blood away, but at the same time, cooled down his burning body.

He was dying.

Never again would he see her, he realised, never again would she smile at him, nor tell him of her dreams. She would be lost to him – and better be for a long, long time. The irony was not lost; it was a present thought he refused to acknowledge. So close to her, the closest he had been in over two years, and here was where he could go no further.

He would never tell her he loved her.

The sun came into view, and then the rest of Cloud, and Zack couldn't help but relief flood through him. _Cloud_, he could make sure she was safe, make sure she lived a happy, long life – he could make sure she knew what happened to him. Perhaps she would love him; perhaps he would love her in return – that thought hurt. He, however, couldn't wish any harm onto her, could never imagine her unhappy.

_I'll never get to apologise_.

Apologise for everything, for hurting her, for disappearing, for not listening to her, for not cherishing her, for still, despite everything he may say, he didn't want her to forget him, to stop loving him. She had written so many letters, and he only received the last one.

He wanted to apologise for only receiving one, for making her write and never respond – for worrying. He wanted to apologise for not returning sooner, for how she worried about him, and worried, for all her wishes he hadn't fulfilled, for the promises to her he couldn't keep. He wanted to apologise for dying now, for bleeding out in the rain, for being riddled with so many bullets not even a _phoenix down_ would be able to save him. The metal in his body were deep; he would be dead before the last bullet was pulled out.

It was hopeless.

He didn't even have a phoenix down on him, or a cure, or anything; he had used them all.

He was dying.

"Z…Zack." _Cloud_. Cloud would live, he would live and love and be a hero. He would find Aerith, he would tell her, he would _live_ and maybe one day Zack would be forgotten, forgotten amongst the mass of other memories that would accumulate between the both of them because they would goddamn _live, _live because he couldn't, because he wasn't there, because he wouldn't want to wish either of them this feeling.

He had lived for Aerith, he was dying for Cloud, and will rejoin everyone else he cared for – hopefully excluding his parents, but he had not way of knowing.

"For the…both of us," He tried, but the rest of his sentence was swallowed by blood in his throat.

"Both," Cloud began, confusion evident in his tone, "of us?" Zack almost laughed – if he could – at the face his friend was making, but he couldn't, he could barely breathe, and it took all of his effort just to sound coherent.

It didn't help that his and Cloud's were drowned out by the pouring rain.

"That's right," he bit out, and it sounded harsher than he meant it to be, but it was just so _hard_ so continue talking when his head was swimming and his body was getting colder. "You're gonna," he stopped to take a breath, "you're gonna," Zack gasped in a breath, and noted how it hurt so much more than it did before. With strength he did not have, Zack lifted his arm, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the pain that seared up it. As his hand reached around the blonde's neck, he found that he couldn't bend his fingers properly, so the best he could do was drag Cloud's head down to his chest tensing at the pain the impact caused him. "Live."

He could no longer feel his legs, and the rain seemed muted compared to his failing heart. "You'll be," He began, but his mind flashed back to Aerith, before he was back in the mud, bleeding out, "my living legacy." Yes, that was for the best. Cloud was going to live, so was Aerith, and he was going to die. His arm slipped from Clouds, falling into the muddy ground. Funny – he barely felt it.

Cloud stiffened, almost as if he were hesitating, before he slowly pushed himself up, crimson coating the right side of his face and staining locks of his blonde hair. Had Zack been in any better shape, he might have smiled at the look Cloud was giving him as he finally realized Zack was not going to make it – he wasn't going to get back up, and he wasn't going to live.

He was dying.

"My honour," Zack breathed, his breath hitching, but damn if he died before he finished telling Cloud. He was Zack, SOLDIER 1st Class. He can make it, he can give something for small-town Cloud to live for, because he was small-town Zack and he was going to die while Cloud was going to live. "My dreams," he said, as he looked over to his right hand, which held Angeal's sword in its grasp. He lifted it, knowing Angeal would like his sword to be passed on, just as he had to Zack. His muscles straining against the effort, Zack finally managed to raise the handle of the monstrous weapon to Cloud. "They're yours now," Zack said, with as much conviction as he could.

Cloud needed to hear this. He needed to know that while this was all Zack had left to give, and he needed to understand that Cloud had a lot to live for. The boy had to continue to live, to spite Hojo, to defy Shinra, to live.

Live because he was dying.

Cloud reached out, and grasped the handle with one hand, and the heavy gaze that was settled on the sword was enough to tell Zack that he understood. He understood the importance of what Zack was doing, and he was accepting it. That was good. If he was going to die, he didn't want anyone to cry over him. Tears were a waste of effort, in his opinion.

But he didn't want to be forgotten.

Cloud's other hand grasped the handle, just as Zack let go, only long enough to reach out, and push the handle towards Cloud, before it too, fell limply to his side. "I'm," Cloud worded, almost as if he couldn't comprehend what he was saying, "your," Zack smiled faintly, "living legacy." That was it. That was what he was waiting to hear.

He had given Aerith his heart, and now he had given his future to Cloud. He had nothing left to give, and as his heart shuddered violently before pausing and missing three beats, before beating one, last time, Zack slowly closed his eyes, because there was nothing left to give.

Because couldn't continue living.

No matter how much he wished he could.

The last thing he heard was Cloud screaming, and as that scream faded into nothingness, Zack knew he had breathed his last.

_Embrace your dreams – _

_If you want to be a hero,_

_You need to have dreams._

Cloud, as memories of Zack, his best friend, flashed through his mind, sat, feeling it was… wrong, to see Zack so still, so peaceful instead of confident or… anything. He was so still.

And he had died for him.

"Thank you." He murmured to the body, and somehow, he felt that Zack had heard, as his body lay there, still as possible. "I won't forget." He swore, because somewhere, he didn't know where, he felt that not being forgotten was what Zack was trying to tell him, to get him to do.

Zack's final wish.

Cloud was his… living legacy.

Sunlight poured through the parting clouds, and it seemed so against what had just happened, and yet, it fit in perfectly. Zack was at peace now, and the surroundings reflected that, or so Cloud imagined. Staring at the ground for a moment, before raising to a knee and then standing, dragging a sword that was heavier than any he had held before up with him.

Looking down, Zack almost seemed to be sleeping, if it were possibly to ignore the gaping bullet wounds. Inner turmoil waged against the blonde, and guilt flooded through him. He had been useless, so sick and fazed to even think by the mako poisoning. And now Zack was dead, and Cloud, small, weak Cloud, who couldn't even get into SOLDIER, was his living legacy.

Somehow, Cloud couldn't imagine him living up to the legacy of Zack Fair, he couldn't even imagine trying. With a grimace, knowing that he had to get moving, or else Zack's sacrifice would have been in vain. With one final look at the bullet riddled body, and conflicting, peaceful face of a person he will never see again, he nodded to the fallen SOLDIER, "Good night," he turned, pausing, taking in a deep breath, "Zack." Grasping the handle of Zack's sword – no longer Angeal's, but Zack's, Cloud marched off towards Midgar, leaving the fallen hero behind.

Wind gently brushed across Zack's bangs, fluttering them in the wind. The body lay in the bright sunlight, blood mostly washed off and onto the ground around him, his face peaceful. His soul, however, was still conscious, almost as if he had not died, not yet, and, as the sunlight shone on his face, he could feel it.

_That girl,_

_She said that the sky frightened her,_

Zack, but… not Zack, as Zack had died, and his body lay on the outskirts surrounding Midgar, stared up into the sky, into the bright sunlight, and a single, dark figure with what looked like wings fly down to meet him.

_That looks so…_

_Liberating._

Opening his eyes, although he did not need eyes to see, he watched as the winged creature flew closer, showing raw power and elegance as the wings beat and the figure defied gravity.

_Those wings…._

_I want them too._

Pure whit feathers floated down towards him, and Zack couldn't help but reaching out, the figure behind them did so in kind, and now that it was closer, he recognised it – the features and appearance of a man he never thought he would see again. A person he loved like a brother and respected like a father.

Angeal.

He began to float, but it wasn't the feeling of flying he wanted. It was almost as if gravity had let go. His outreached hand was taken, and higher he went, faster, guided by Angeal, and finally, _finally_, he felt it.

Freedom.

_It feels…good._

The sunlight was warm and caressing, and he finally felt… happy. No longer was he running, no longer was he fighting, no longer was he worrying. Everything was okay. Angeal was there, and never had Angeal led him astray, and he felt…

At peace.

Down below he could see a small figure of Cloud, dragging the Buster sword and its cumbersome weight, but his eyes were closed, he was basking in the feeling of flight, and, as odd as it was, he could see everything so much… clearer.

_If you see Aerith, say hi for me._

He wished it to Cloud, because now he felt none of the envy he did as he had been dying, nor did he harbour any ill will or fear. It was all right. As long as they continued to live, everything would be all right. He was dead, but that was okay, it wasn't so bad. He continued to fly, and, before he fully merged with the Lifestream, he directed his thoughts to all those that knew him, both dead and alive. One last thought, which, the found, almost summed up his entire existence.

_Hey,_

_Would you say I became a hero?_

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_A/N: I wrote this awhile ago, and actually intended for it to be the start of a 'rebirth' fic, but then I realised, Zack's death was a tragic masterpiece - why mess with that unless I have to? Please Read, Enjoy, and most definitely REVIEW! (Like I need to remind you)._


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